


stumble into love with (awkward, perfect grace)

by glassbones



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: (I Like My Fanfic How I Like My Men), Canonical Character Death, Episode: s01e28 The City on the Edge of Forever, M/M, Short Sad & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassbones/pseuds/glassbones
Summary: Kissing Spock tasted a little like ginger tea he bought from the Chinese vendor down two blocks, and a lot like coming home must taste. set in the aos'verse but vaguely follows tos City on the edge of forever. you don't have to have seen the episode to read this





	

Water dirtside had that distinct metallic tinge, Leonard remembers: iron, blooming red like blood in your mouth (or on your hands, on your clothes; rubber gloves and gauze don't do much to keep it away, keep it inside– the bleeding slows to a trickle, then stops, you break the patient's ribs trying to start his heart again). Water dirtside tastes like iron. Kissing Spock tastes like copper, like sucking on nickels. He didn't mind one bit– doesn't mind, bites Spock's lower lip even as he presses closer to him, eager to taste and touch, and eager to have more.   
Kissing Spock tasted a little like ginger tea he bought from the Chinese vendor down two blocks, and a lot like coming home must taste. His mouth was inhumanly cool, but not unpleasantly so. He'd grown out his hair to cover the ears. He shivered. Leonard sighed and scraped his nails against the soft of Spock's neck a little harder. Leonard hadn't been home in a while.

Leonard isn't home now, either, even though the familiarity and habit make their ship feel a lot like home (make him breathe a little easier, make him smile a little wider). He isn't home but he _feels_ at home in Spock's embrace, in the cradle of his hips, inadvertently broadcasting the feeling, innocuously, until the knowledge blooms red, like a hangnail or a papercut: home is something Spock doesn't have, haven't had in a long while, will not have (the memorial for Amanda Grayson was held on Earth at Spock's insistence, the grave was empty, it was quiet and gracious and elegant, everything she was condensed into a tasteful four-hour ceremony by her son's loving hands). Leonard bites his lip. It tastes like iron, blooms red.

"It is fine," Spock is so pliant underneath him, so soft, all-too-human brown eyes dark with understanding and some unspoken intent.

"Fine has variable definitions," Leonard laughs without any real humor in his voice.

They stay like that for a while, studying each other, one quietly calculating, the other just looking or perhaps trying to memorize (the dark brown, the silken shine of his hair, the slight crease between his slanted eyebrows, the softness around his mouth).

Leonard looks away first.

**Author's Note:**

> posted from my phone as always, so if there's any typos or formatting errors, please let me know
> 
> as usual, feedback is appreciated, i take prompts, tumblr is @jaylawh, stay hydrated


End file.
